Crazy Meets Crazy
by bamelot89
Summary: An encounter between the Winchesters and Nick Burkhardt.  Sometime after Slash Fiction.
1. Chapter 1

"Son of a bitch," Dean growled under his breath as the snarls and footsteps quickly grew farther away. His hands were in the air, gun in one hand, and Sam was the same beside him.

"Turn around. Slowly."

Sam and Dean begrudgingly did as the cop said.

"Put your weapons down."

Sam clenched and unclenched his jaw as he laid his gun and Dean his silver knife on the grass at a snail's pace.

The man who'd unknowingly stopped them from taking down the Blutbad had striking blue eyes and carried that cop air around him. He looked at them hard for a moment, and then recognition flashed across his face. "You're the Winchesters."

"If you let us go, we won't hurt you," Dean remarked cockily.

"Why were you chasing after that guy?" the cop questioned.

Sam shook his head. "If only you knew," Dean said.

The leather jacketed man's brow furrowed. "Why don't you tell me."

"Are you willing to let us get off easy on an insanity plea?" Sam asked sarcastically.

The cop cocked his head. "You…are you a Grimm?"

"I thought we'd just established we were the Winchesters," Dean said smartly.

"You are, aren't you?"

"Grimm wrote fairy-tales," Sam said. "What are you talking about?"

Mr. Crazy lowered his gun ever so slightly.

"We're hunters," Dean said, surprising Sam. "And that was a Blutbad. And you just blew our shot."

The cop's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "If you're not a Grimm, how do you know?"

"The Grimm brothers _died_," Sam stated bluntly, exchanging a maybe-he's-crazy look with Dean. "They wrote _stories_ about talking wolves and poisoned apples."

"The Grimm line hunts monsters," the cop explained. "And the guy you were after just so happens to be one of the good ones."

"What's your name?" Dean asked, gesturing to him with his chin and letting his hands down about an inch.

"Nick Burkhardt."

"Well, Nicky," Dean addressed the cop, "how about you put your gun away and we have a chat about why some fairy-tale hunter would let a Blutbad escape?"


	2. Chapter 2

"So what you're saying," Dean said, leaning his back against the Impala's temporary fill-in, "is you can see monsters even when they look just like regular people."

"Right," Nick answered. "It's…a little crazy. And you two are hunters? I didn't know there were other people who knew about all this."

"Well, we didn't know about you," Sam said. "But yeah, there's others like us."

Nick nodded, taking a moment to digest. "So…if you aren't the brothers that went on that killing spree, who was that?"

"Long story," Dean said.

Sam exchanged a glance with his brother, a silent conversation passing between them that lasted only a few seconds. When it was over, Sam asked, "Have you ever heard of Leviathans?"

Nick's brow furrowed. "No, never. But I'm fairly new at this. I might be able to find something about it. Why?"

"Those are what stole our appearances," Sam explained. Dean reached into the car and took a swig of whiskey, earning him a simultaneously disapproving and worried look from Sam. "They were unleashed from Purgatory."

Dean laughed humorlessly at Nick's expression. "Another longer story."

There was a moment of silence that turned into several moments that dragged and dragged.

"Well," Dean said, putting on a smile, "if you're not gonna arrest us, then I think it's time we head out. Didn't realize you were BFF's with a Blutbad."

"What, you guys've never come across a supernatural creature that you got along with?"

Dean's jaw clenched and Sam quickly covered, "The monsters we've met have all been dicks." Not a lie—Cas didn't qualify as a monster.

Nick gave them a speculative look. "Is there something I'm missing? I mean, I realize we just met, but I'd say we have a fair amount in common—"

"You really don't wanna know," Dean warned.

"Don't wanna know what?"

"Whatever you've seen, whatever you think is so bad—it's not. It the tip of the tip of the friggin' iceberg. And you do _not_ want to get anywhere near it."

"Okay…so tell me. Then I can know to stay away from it. Whatever 'it' is."

"Listen, Nick," Sam said. "You just knowing about it puts you in danger. The last thing we want is to have to add another person to our body count."

"I think I can handle it," the cop said. And damn if Dean didn't want to throw him against the car and shake him until he understood.

"Look, buddy. My guess is you haven't even ganked an every day demon yet, much less any of the big league guys. Maybe you didn't even know they existed if you're new to this. But let me tell you, even those black eyed sons of bitches don't like what we've got on our plate right now."

"Okay, so demons are real." Nick would digest that later. "But there's something you're not telling me. I don't need the details, but don't _lie_ to me."

Dean glanced at the ground, smiling humorlessly. "Alright, Burkhardt. Here it is: Angels. Warriors of God. Feathery wings and everything. They're real. The apocalypse was supposed to go down awhile ago, but that didn't happen. The whole of heaven wasn't to happy about that, so they started a civil war. The good side got desperate—they didn't think they'd win—so one of 'em swallowed Purgatory. That didn't work to well and everything got put back where it belonged except for the Leviathans. And now they've got some sort of master plan hat we don't know and we've got to stop them. And nobody lived happily ever after. The end."

Nick couldn't find any words in the silence that followed.

Sam added, "The angel that took in Purgatory—he was…he was our Blutbad."

"He was a whole lot more than a Blutbad," Dean muttered, voice dangerously low.

"I didn't…I didn't realize…whoa."

"We just lost somebody again last week," Sam said. "The Leviathans found out he was helping us. And before him, it was a guy…he was like a father to us."

"He doesn't need our whole freakin' life story," Dean snapped. "Let's go."

"Look, in case something comes up—here's my number," Sam said as he scribbled it down on the back of a receipt. "And Dean's is underneath it. Don't let anybody call these or even know who they belong to, alright?"

"Yeah. Sure." Nick was still stunned from Dean's little outburst. "I'll call if I find anything about the Leviathans too."

Sam offered a sad half smile. "Thanks."


	3. Chapter 3

"_You just let them go_! Are you crazy? They tried to _kill_ me!"

"Calm down," Nick said into the phone. "It…it's a bit more complicated than you think."

"It better be, for you to just let them off the hook—"

Nick had his car door open, ready to step inside, when he saw the Winchesters' car swerve violently as it drove away before the breaks were slammed on.

"Hey, Monroe, I'm gonna have to call you back." He shoved his phone back into his pocket and jogged towards the old baby blue Chevy. And maybe he was crazy, because he was pretty sure that two men had gotten into that car and drive away—not three.

As he grew nearer, he could hear yelling coming from inside the car. Sam stuck his head out the window and shouted for Nick to stay out of this, which Nick directly ignored and ran the rest of the way to the car.

The driver's side door swung open and Dean stomped out, shouting obscenities all the way. "…zar, I swear to God, you stupid son of a bitch, where the hell were you—"

"Dean, please, calm down."

Nick spun around at the sound of the voice coming from behind him and immediately grabbed his gun. "He's a Hundjäger!"

"A _what_?" Dean snapped.

"He's supposed to be dead."

"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky." His German accent was gone, replaced by a British one. And his hair was completely different and he wore a _V-neck. _What the hell? "Let me explain. Boys," he addressed the Winchesters. His features morphed into the ugly dog face and back to their human appearance. "That's what your lovely new friend thinks I am." He held up his hand, revealing the tattoo on his palm. "Is this what you're concerned about? Because I can easily get rid of it." He wiped his hands on his pants and held it up again—there was no mark to be seen.

"How…"

"_Balthazar_!" Dean snarled. "Explanation."

Sam splashed the contents of a flask on Waltz's face.

He pressed his lips together and blinked a few times. "_Really_, Sam? Holy water?"

"Sorry. Had to check."

He gave an exasperated sigh and waved his hand upwards, toward the sky, and held it there for a moment. The clouds darkened and the wind picked up. _What was going on?_

"Satisfied?" he asked. He dropped his hand and the weather went back to normal.

"Yeah, okay," Sam said.

"You guys know him?" Nick asked, frustration at his cluelessness giving a sharper than intended edge to his tone.

"Yeah, he's a friggin' angel," Dean said.

Nick couldn't keep his jaw from dropping. "What?"

Dean glared at Waltz. "What'd you do?"

"I told you—after I died, I just...came back. Like Cassy did all those times—"

"You're not Cas."

Waltz rolled his eyes. "Obviously. Wait—you don't know?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what?"

"_What the hell is going on_?" Nick exploded.

"I'm not a Hundjäger, Nicky. Never was. That was an act. Had to find out some information."

"You killed people!"

Before Waltz could get a word out, Sam and Dean said, "You did _what_?" in unison.

Waltz rolled his eyes to look at them. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You've both killed people, too. In fact, I distinctly recall your faces on national TV. You went on a slaughtering spree not too long ago—"

"Okay, shut your mouth, smart ass," Dean warned.

"If you shot me would you feel better?" Waltz asked Nick.

"You were dead."

"Yes, well, I got bored of being dead. It was a bit dull."

"Hold on," Sam said. "You saw him die?"

"Yeah, just a couple days ago."

Sam ran his hands through his hair.

"My head's gonna hurt after this one," Dean stated.

"Let's go for coffee," Waltz suggested with a smile that Nick certainly did not trust. "Tell you what, Nicky. If you put your gun down, you can come, too."

Dean rubbed his eyes. "Just do it, Nick. If he tries anything we can send his ass to the middle of the Pacific."

Waltz's eyes narrowed. "I don't think you want to try that."

Dean threw his arms out. "What do I have to lose? Let's go."

"Gather round," Waltz said. "It's time for a group hug."

One awkward and uncomfortable group hug later, they were standing in the middle of an unfamiliar sidewalk outside a coffee shop.

Nick jumped back away from the other three, nearly falling onto the concrete.

"What just happened?"

"An angel just gave you a free ride. Not as awesome as one would think," Dean remarked.

After an hour, some head hurting, and several explanations, everyone was finally on the same page. And the coffee was left to get cold.

"So…you're an angel," Nick said, voice low in the back corner of the café.

Balthazar smiled. "Yes, that's right. Wings and everything. But you can't see them."

"You're wearing a V-neck." And Nick knew how stupid that sounded, but who wore V-necks? And what kind of angel…damn, his head was about to explode.

"Our world just got a whole lot bigger," Sam said. "And that much more complex."

Balthazar grinned. "You're welcome, Sam. No amount of research could have ever led you to all this."

Dean had been sitting quietly for quite some time—since one specific statement made by Balthazar, actually. Nick wasn't sure he'd even kept listening after that. But now he said, "If Cas is really alive, we've got to find him."


End file.
